


Try Again in the Morning

by stoplightglow



Category: Bandom, My Chemical Romance
Genre: Alternate Universe - Always a Different Sex, Awkward Hook-Up, F/F, Genderswap, Making Out
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-05
Updated: 2021-01-05
Packaged: 2021-03-16 04:34:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,559
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28576068
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stoplightglow/pseuds/stoplightglow
Summary: “You have the Millennium Falcon on your sheets.” Frankie tries to keep as straight a face as possible, given the circumstances.Gee looks embarrassed for a second before her expression morphs. “Does that not turn you on?”Frankie meets Gee at a party and goes home with her, but things don't turn out exactly as expected.
Relationships: Frank Iero/Gerard Way
Comments: 26
Kudos: 74





	Try Again in the Morning

**Author's Note:**

> is this what i should be writing? no! but unfortunately i'm in one of those funks where i needed to finish writing something to remind myself that i'm actually able to. so, figured i should start the new year off right with some wlw fic.
> 
> thank you to nat for beta.
> 
> _disclaimer: this fic discusses aspects of sex, but there is no explicit sexual content._

Frankie sits on the arm of the couch, next to Hambone and the jackass metal guys Hambone‘s trying to impress. Hambone yells over the music, “So the cops showed up, and I thought the dude who’s basement we were playing would handle it, since it was his fucking basement, right? And we were in the middle of our set?”

The metal guys nod. Frankie drums her fingers on her thigh and wonders how much longer this is going to take.

“No! He was the first one over the fence. And next thing I knew, Frankie was behind him, throwing a fucking amp over,” Hambone mimes the toss like it’s a three-pointer, beer sloshing over the edge of his plastic cup, “and telling him to catch it. Right, Frankie?”

“Broke the poor guy’s fucking nose,” Frankie says, and nods obligingly. She loves Hambone, she does, but she lived this story and has heard it a million times since. She’ll do the routine, but she’s not gonna win an Oscar for it. 

She’s a little too distracted for that.

There’s this girl sitting in the corner of the room with all the coats, and she’s so gorgeous it’s fucking ridiculous. 

Mikey Way brought her and introduced her as his sister Gee before fucking off to go let Gabe Saporta hit on him, or whatever it is that he does at Hambone’s parties. Frankie hadn’t watched him go. She would have invited Gee over to sit by her if Hambone wasn’t such an asshole and taking up the entire couch with his new buddies, despite Frankie jabbing him multiple times in the leg to try and get him to move. As is, Frankie checks Gee out in her peripheral as subtly as she can.

She’s just so fucking pretty. Bright eyes, tousled black hair, it doesn’t even look like she tries. Frankie wants to dig a fingernail under the ropes of her fishnets.

Tuning back in, Frankie hears Hambone say, “Yeah, we were back in the same basement three weekends later,” and get a big laugh from the metal guys. Great, the story’s only halfway done. 

Frankie chances a full-on look at Gee. Gee’s picking at a scab on her knuckles and listening to the conversation float around without adding anything, but it’s obvious on her face that she’s thinking. Frankie wants to know what she’s thinking. 

Raising her voice to grab Gee’s attention, Frankie interrupts whatever Hambone was about to say with, “You ever seen us play, Gee?”

Gee looks up and blinks. “Um, no? Mikey,” she flaps a hand towards the bulk of people in the front hall where Mikey may or may not be, “Mikey has, he’s told me about you. Pencey Prep?”

“That’s us.” Frankie tries not to sound like a dick, but it comes out a little smug. What? She loves her band. And knows that sometimes girls find it attractive that she’s in one.

“You should come see us sometime,” Hambone says offhandedly, then turns back to the metal guys. “Anyway, he didn’t hold a grudge. Even though Frankie fucked up his face.”

Frankie elbows Hambone in the ribs, and he laughs. Still doesn’t scoot over, though. “Hey, I drove him to the ER. I’m not a monster.”

“I’m not blaming you either way. We couldn’t afford another amp.”

Frankie shakes her head and downs the rest of her drink. “Fuck no, we couldn’t.”

Gee’s eyes flick over to Frankie. Feeling the weight of her gaze, Frankie glances back at her. Gee bites her lip as she smiles.

Frankie can’t take it anymore, okay. She hops off the couch and loudly says, “I’m going to get another drink.” She turns to Gee, who seems surprised again to be acknowledged. “You want to come?”

Gee looks down into her cup and must find it empty, because she nods. “Uh, yeah? Sure.”

“Sure,” Frankie repeats in the same tone, unable to keep the smile off her face. She reaches a hand down and Gee takes it, letting Frankie hoist her up. Her hands are sweaty. Frankie probably shouldn’t be endeared by that, but, fuck. 

Gee doesn’t pull out of her grip, so Frankie holds her hand all the way to the kitchen. There are a few other people around, some scene girls Frankie vaguely recognizes from shows sitting on the counter and laughing. The alcohol’s wide open. Frankie picks up a bottle of rum and roots around in Hambone’s fridge for the cans of Coke she knows he hides in the back. She mixes the two in her cup, then pours half of it into Gee’s.

“I assume you like rum and Coke, if you’re related to Mikey.”

Gee shrugs and takes a sip. “Jack or rum. I could go either way.”

Frankie grins and lets herself believe that’s a double entendre.

She tries to think of openers, but she doesn’t really feel like making small talk, especially not over the thumping bass of Hambone’s sound system. Maybe she should just get to it. 

“I like that skirt on you,” she says. 

“Oh, thanks.” Dropping her hand from the counter, Gee plays with one of the safety pins pushed through the plaid fabric. Frankie watches, using it as an excuse to flit her eyes up and down Gee’s body. 

A beat passes. 

Fuck it. From what Frankie’s seen Mikey get up to, it doesn’t seem like heterosexuality is a dominant trait in the Way family gene pool anyway.

“To be clear,” Frankie says slowly, putting her drink down. “I mean that in a friendly way, but also in kind of a gay way.”

“Oh.” Gee blinks, and her eyelashes are so long, Jesus fucking Christ. 

“If that’s okay.”

Color rises to the high points of Gee’s cheeks. “Uh. Yes, that’s okay.”

Frankie leans forward, and Gee sort of sways into her, letting Frankie put a hand on her waist. Her skin is warm even through her shirt.

“How buzzed are you right now?” Frankie asks. 

“Sober enough to drive us to my place.”

Frankie raises her eyebrows at the sudden, and, she’ll be honest, very hot burst of confidence from Gee. Gee breaks eye contact but smiles at her feet. Fuck, Frankie needs to kiss her already.

Gee continues, “Which is, uh, my mom’s basement, but. . .”

“I don’t give a fuck,” Frankie says. She grabs Gee’s hand and pulls her through the house, out the front door, and into the chilly night. 

*

Gee falls back onto the bed with a thump and a sharp exhale. Frankie follows her down, kneeing her way up the mattress to plant her elbows on either side of Gee’s head. 

Frankie hovers there for a second, looking at the shadowy planes of Gee’s face and neck. “Can we turn on a light?”

“I don’t know, can you kiss me?” Gee asks. She sounds breathless, which, fuck yeah.

Not needing to be asked twice, Frankie dips her head, and their lips meet. Gee’s a little chapped but still sweet underneath the way all girls are. Frankie kisses her again, and again, before she forces herself to stop. 

“Lamp’s on the table on your right,” Gee says on an exhale as Frankie drags herself away.

The room lights up. Frankie looks down at Gee to find her round face flushed, her dark hair a mess across her forehead. She’s fucking beautiful. 

Then Frankie looks beside her.

“You have the Millennium Falcon on your sheets.” She tries to keep as straight a face as possible, given the circumstances.

Gee looks embarrassed for a second before her expression morphs. “Does that not turn you on?”

“We could be lying on Sesame Street characters and I’d still be turned on.” After replaying the words in her head, Frankie grimaces. “That was a weird way to hit on you.”

“It was,” Gee agrees, but she pulls Frankie down to kiss her neck anyway. 

Frankie sits up several minutes later, after she’s done leaving Gee a bright red hickey on her collarbone. She yanks her t-shirt off over her head. A few short strands of hair fall into her line of vision, so she pushes them back out of the way. 

Straddling Gee, Frankie looks down. Gee stares back with wide eyes.

“What?” Frankie draws out the word, smirking. She gets the general idea of what Gee’s ogling at: the tattoos on her chest and spiraling down her arms, the black lace bralette she’d decided to go out in. Frankie’s pretty sure she’s got the better view, though.

“I, um. . .” Gee blinks, and all of a sudden the awestruck look on her face gives way to uncertainty. Immediately, Frankie leans back and crosses her arms over her chest. Shit, she might’ve gone too far or too fast.

“What?” Frankie asks again, this time meaning it. Or, fuck, if she went home with another straight girl—

Gee rolls her head to the side. She pulls her knees up a bit, so Frankie climbs off of her completely. 

“I might not be drunk enough for this,” Gee says under her breath. 

“Woah, okay.” Frankie holds up her hands, trying to like, referee the situation. “Don’t do that. I can leave.”

“No, don’t—” Grabbing Frankie’s wrist, Gee keeps her from getting off the bed. “I don’t want you to  _ leave.” _

“Then what, uh.” Frankie scratches the side of her head as she folds her legs underneath herself. She tries to think clearly through the haze of desire she’s still under. Gee looks at her like she wants her to read her mind, which even if they hadn’t practically just met, wouldn’t work. 

It’s possible that Gee just doesn’t want to be the one to call it off, doesn’t want to make Frankie mad, seem like a prude, the usual internalized bullshit. Frankie makes her voice softer. “I’m serious, I’m fine if we don’t do anything. It’s cool.”

Sighing, Gee throws an arm over her face, like she doesn’t want to meet Frankie’s eyes. Whatever she says gets muffled in her elbow.

Frankie doesn’t know what to do. Gee asked her not to leave, and it’s not like Frankie would rather be at home than here with a stunning girl in front of her, but, “I’ll, uh. . .put my shirt back on.”

Gee pushes her hand up into her hair, uncovering her face. “I’ve got vodka on my bookshelf.”

“Warm vodka?”

Making a face, Gee says, “Shit, I know. It’s cinnamon flavored, too.”

Yeah, Frankie is not kissing anyone after a mouthful of warm cinnamon booze. “Why don’t you just tell me what’s up?”

Gee inspects the wrinkles in the sheets next to her and plays with the hem. Frankie waits patiently.

“I’m not very good at this,” Gee blurts out, squeezing her eyes shut as soon as she’s confessed.

“At what?” Frankie asks mildly. “Sex?”

Gee shakes her head miserably. She opens her eyes again, but she won’t look at Frankie. “Hooking up.”

Frankie studies her, trying to figure out the difference she’s specifying. They’re kind of the same thing in Frankie’s book. 

Gee rushes out, “It’s fucking scary, and there are, like, so many things to get wrong? I’ve had sex, but before sex even happens, I’m supposed to figure out so much stuff. Like fucking  _ lingerie. _ You’re in that hot lace thing, and guess what? I’m in a fucking sports bra under this.” She plucks at her shirt like it’s disappointed her.

When Frankie doesn’t answer, Gee’s eyebrows knit together and she starts to sit up. “Shit, I’m sorry, you didn’t ask for any of this. I totally misled you by asking you to come home with me.”

“You didn’t mislead me, what the fuck.” Frankie wants to laugh, but she holds it back, thinking Gee probably wouldn’t appreciate it. “If it helps, I’m in boxer briefs under these jeans. Lingerie kind of sucks.”

“God, thongs are the  _ worst, _ right?” Gee says, maybe with too must gusto. She smiles sheepishly.

It’s pretty much impossible not to grin back. “They really are.”

“And I never—” Gee hesitates, then continues in a quieter voice, “I never know if I’m supposed to shave. I don’t  _ want _ to, that shit itches, but I never know if the other person wants me to. It makes me so fucking nervous.”

“I don’t shave.” Frankie lifts her arms up over her head. “Anywhere. Clearly. Does that matter to you?”

Her intention wasn’t to show off, but the way Gee’s eyes drink her in makes Frankie’s spine tingle. “Not at fucking all,” Gee says.

“Exactly.” Frankie leans forward a few inches. “It’s confidence. There’s shit I don’t know, too.”

“Like what?”

Frankie shrugs. “Like sex toys. There are too fucking many. I can’t keep track of what they all do.”

Gee’s snort of laughter also somehow sounds like a sigh of relief. “Only a couple you really need to know, though.”

Frankie smirks. She tries not to let her imagination run too far with the combined thought of Gee and sex toys, but, well. “Yeah, that’s true.”

A silence falls between them. Frankie watches Gee’s chest move up and down as she breathes before dragging her eyes back up to her face.

Gee visibly swallows. “I sure know how to kill a mood, huh?”

“Talking about sex isn’t really a mood-killer,” Frankie says. Then, more genuinely, “Neither is making sure you’re comfortable.”

“Thank you for, um. Doing that.”

“What, being a decent person?”

“Sticking around after your hookup bails is more than being a decent person,” Gee says.

Frankie doesn’t really have an answer for that. At least, she doesn’t have the words to explain the feeling in her gut that this is where she wants to be. She likes Gee’s honesty, and how cute she looks when she blushes doesn’t hurt, either.

Gee says, “I wanted to talk to you from the moment I walked into that party.” Then her eyes widen, like she wasn’t expecting to admit that.

“Is that so?” Frankie says, letting some cockiness back into her voice. “I couldn’t stop looking at you, either.”

“God, shut up.” Gee rolls her eyes, but she clearly doesn’t mean it. “Kiss me already.”

Frankie meets her halfway. Gee wraps her arms around Frankie, holding her close, and makes a happy noise when Frankie threads her hands into her hair. They eventually have to break apart because they’re both smiling too much.

Frankie falls onto her back, landing next to Gee. Gee rolls onto her side to face her. Close to Frankie’s ear, she says, “You should stay the night.”

The warmth in Frankie’s chest expands like a starburst. “Really?”

“Yeah.”

“Let me guess, you just don’t want to drive me home.”

Gee grins guiltily. “No, I don’t. But I also want you to be here in the morning.”

“Well, your bed is comfy.” Frankie wiggles in the sheets as if to prove it, when, in reality, they could be sleeping on a boulder and she’d still want to stay. “I’ll stay over, and in the morning, I’ll take you somewhere for breakfast. We can see what happens from there, if you want.”

Gee’s face lights up. “Can we get coffee?”

“Whatever you want,” Frankie says, another stupid smile unfolding on her face.

Reaching over, Gee turns off the lamp. In the sliver of light left from the digital clock, Frankie finds her lips and kisses her goodnight.


End file.
